


Not God, Just Cursed

by MrsWhozeewhatsis (OxfordCommaLover)



Series: SPNFanFicPond Season 14 Weekly Episode Writing Challenge [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Ogre, evil pregnancy, too many trips to the bathroom, witch curse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 11:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16325015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OxfordCommaLover/pseuds/MrsWhozeewhatsis
Summary: You’re hunting a witch and get cursed. Hilarity ensues.





	Not God, Just Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the @spnfanficpond‘s SPN Season 14 Weekly Episode Writing Challenge Week 1 and the prompt I picked was #1. “You’re… Oh, God.” “People keep calling me that.” Special thanks to @littlegreenplasticsoldier and @manawhaat for being beta-ful, as always. They not only let me know my writing doesn’t suck, they make it BETTER.

As you came flying around the corner, merely three steps behind the witch, you didn’t think to stop and check, first. Dean was always yelling at you to stop and check around corners, so you wouldn’t literally run into trouble. You should have listened to Dean.

No sooner were you away from the cover of the corner than a giant ball of blinding power hit you square in the stomach and sent you hurtling against the wall, your gun falling out of your hand. Momentarily stunned, you shook your head to clear it, then focused on the witch. Fury filled you as you saw her laughing. You reached for your gun, finding your center of gravity oddly not where it usually was, which sent you sliding down the wall to the floor.  Meanwhile, she’d decided to fucking _monologue_.

“I watched you in the store with the other customers, you know. I know your fears. I know the last thing you would ever want to be.”

To your annoyance, she damn well _giggled_ while you struggled to reach the weapon that had slid two feet away. Why did you suddenly feel like you weighed an extra ton and a half?

“If I had known all you brought with you was a gun, I wouldn’t have run, silly girl! They’re really not very effective against monsters like me, you know.”

She was advancing on you, now, enjoying your struggles with a gleam in her eye. When your hand finally grasped the gun and pointed it at her, you wiped the smug smile off the bitch’s face.

“Oh, yeah? Three words. Witch. Killing. Bullets.”

You let her fully realize what you were saying before you put one of your spelled bullets between her eyes. She dropped to the floor with a thud, and you crawled over to her just so you could put two more bullets into her heart to be sure.

With a sigh, you flopped backward until you were sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall with your eyes closed. Now that the witch was dead, her spell should end, right? Then why did you still feel like a beached whale?

You opened your eyes and finally got a long look at yourself. Wow, there was a lot of yourself to look at, all of a sudden.

This… this was gonna be tough to explain.

It wasn’t easy, but you managed to get back to your motel room. Honestly, getting up off the floor had been the hardest part. Well, and fitting behind the wheel of your modest, four-door sedan. When you were settled, you called Dean and asked for Rowena’s number. Of course, he then had to know _why_ you needed Rowena’s number.

“I just kinda got myself a little cursed. I killed the witch, but I’m still cursed, so I need Rowena to come and fix me back up, okay?”

“A little…!! _How_ do you get yourself just a _little_ cursed??”

“I’m basically fine. Feel pretty good, considering. Don’t have too many weird urges or anything, but I’m definitely not in my usual condition… but I’m fine, I swear! I just need Rowena. Can you just give me her damn number, please??”

Dean made a couple of incoherent noises that were partly muted by the brush of fabric against the phone. “She’s right here, so I’m bringing her to you. Text me your location.”

The phone beeped in your hand indicating the end of the call. Dean had actually hung up on you. He knew you hated it when someone hung up on you, so for him to do it, you knew he was pissed.

He was probably never gonna let you hunt by yourself again.

You texted your motel name and room number, then texted Sam to get him to come along and keep Dean from killing you. Sam replied that Mary suddenly needed a break from the Bunker, so she was coming, too.

Great.

Two hours later, you were opening the door to let Mary in. She walked in the room but didn’t get a good look at you until you’d closed the door behind her.

“The boys are helping Rowena bring her stuff in. She claims she didn’t know what to bring since you weren’t specific about… Oh, God.”

Mary’s eyes bulged as she looked at your stomach. She stared at your stomach, then looked up at you, then back at your stomach.

“I just saw you yesterday… The witch did _that??”_

You nodded.

Another knock on the door. Standing behind it, you opened it, and this time it was Sam carrying two bags and chattering away.

“Dean’s arguing with Rowena about if we really need to bring everything inside versus just figuring what she needs and then bringing in just…,” he finally turned around and looked at you, “You’re… Oh, God.”

You nodded and then waddled over to the chair and lowered yourself down. “Yup. This witch had a sense of humor.”

Dean banged the door wide while he barreled into the room, three bags and Rowena in tow, who was carrying nothing but her handbag and a happy smile. You waited while he grumbled and set everything down before turning and seeing you.

Mary and Sam were still frozen, eyes wide as they stared, and now Dean joined them, jaw slack and eyes not blinking. Rowena tried unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle.

“You’re…,” Dean started, but then seemed stuck. “Oh, God,” he said, his face going white as a sheet.

“Yeah, people keep calling me that! If we keep it up, Chuck’s gonna come down here and smite me for it, too!” You glared at the lot of them and shook your head. “The witch cursed me and now I’m fucking pregnant! I wasn’t pregnant this morning, but I’m definitely pregnant, now, and I can tell you it’s real, because the little fucker is dancing on my goddamn bladder making me pee fourteen times since I called you two hours ago!!” All their faces suddenly sobered up and became a bit more understanding. “And since I wasn’t pregnant when I woke up this morning, I know fuck-all about what this is growing inside of me, so can we just take care of it before it bursts out of me like that alien in that movie I hated? Please??”

Everyone jumped, then. Though, without a direction, it was almost comical to watch them all run into each other in their efforts to help you. Several minutes of confusion were enough for you, and you went back into the bathroom to pee, _again_ , slamming the door behind you.

When you finally emerged, Mary was returning to the room with several drink options from the vending machine outside, while Sam was sitting at the table, poring over a spell book with Rowena standing next to him. Dean was sitting on the bed, staring at his hands while he twiddled his thumbs.

“I got you one of everything since I didn’t know what you could tolerate,” Mary said, setting her stash down on the little bit of table not covered with books.

You thanked Mary, and then sat down on the bed next to Dean, pressing yourself up against his side. More than ever, you really wanted his support, right then. He grabbed your hand and enclosed it in both of his.

“You know, I know we agreed we would never try, but that if an accident happened, we’d accept it… This is not the kind of accident I imagined, honey,” Dean said quietly, so only you could hear.

The love in Dean’s eyes was enough to bring tears to yours. “I know,” you said with a sniffle, and wiped your face as the tears fell. “Please know, that if this had happened because you forgot to suit up one time or methods failed, I’d feel a whole lot different than I do right now. If this were your child, and not some cursed monster that seemed out to wreck my bladder from the inside, I’d be happy to live on the toilet for nine months, if I had to.”

Dean laughed and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your head. “Good to know, babe. I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a smirk.

Rowena distracted you from each other by closing her book with a loud _thwap._ “That settles it. It’s an ogre.”

Sam’s face twisted in disgust, while you, Mary, and Dean just looked confused.

“Like Shrek?” Dean asked.

Mary looked around in confusion. “What’s a Shrek?”

Rowena’s face turned an alarming shade of maroon and you suddenly saw the waves of angry power emanating off her form.

“Don’t get me started on that Disney bastardization! The accent alone…!” Static electricity crackled in the air as Rowena let out a growl. With a deep breath, once the electrons settled, she fixed her hair with a delicate finger, brushing a lock from her brow. “No. Ogres are far uglier and more vicious than what movie makers would have you believe.”

“It’s actually Dreamworks, not Disney,” Sam grumbled, then decided not to press the matter. Mary rested a hand on Sam’s shoulder, and he gave her a gesture that said he’d explain later.

“The curse this witch threw at you serves two purposes:” Rowena began. “First, to kill you slowly and painfully, and second, to provide her with a servant. A rather wild, barely domesticated servant, kind of like a feral cat, really, but a servant, nonetheless. It creates the ogre inside of you, you give birth, the baby ogre kills and eats you while you’re weak from labor, and then is drawn back to the witch that cast the spell.”

All three Winchesters were now staring at your stomach with matching grimaces. You didn’t blame them. You were doing it, too.

“The only way to fix this is to remove the ogre now, before it’s full-term, and kill it before it can kill us,” Rowena concluded. “Because it will be twice as deadly without a mistress to control it.”

Tentatively, you raised your hand and Rowena nodded for you to speak.

“Ummm… not be nitpicky or anything, but exactly how are you planning on removing it? I mean, we’ve all done our share of stitches, but this is major surgery!”

Rowena laughed and stepped closer, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. Where there’s magic, there’s a way!”

While everyone else prepared for the ogre’s arrival, you hit the bathroom one more time, not wanting to add peeing your pants to the possible indignities you were about to face. Bladder settled for the moment, you returned to find a salt circle in the middle of the room, various weapons lined up on the table and beds, and the Winchesters all checking their guns. Rowena directed you to sit in a chair just outside the circle, then started chanting.

For a minute or so, you felt like Elastigirl from The Incredibles when she was pregnant. Your belly seemed to stretch and move completely independently of the rest of your body as Rowena kept chanting and waving her arms at you. It didn’t really hurt, but you definitely felt stretched a bit thin.

Just when actual pain was beginning to make an appearance, there was an ear-splitting POP! Your eyes had been closed with the increasing discomfort, and when you opened them, your brain just could not compute what it was seeing.

Your body was back to normal, no pregnancy belly, no open wounds, no anything to indicate that you had been the size of a house five minutes prior. There was, however, in the middle of the salt circle, _something_. It was hairier than you’d expected, and really round, though you could almost see little hands and feet and what might have been a face? All in all, it looked like something out of the old Looney Tunes cartoons, like when one character would “inflate” another character and then use them like a balloon in a parade… just… furrier.

It was almost cute, in an ugly sort of way.

All appeal disappeared entirely when the mouth opened and about 40 million razor-sharp teeth started gnashing. The thing growled and grunted and rolled around the salt circle, bouncing away from the edges like it was burned each time it got close.

“What are ya waitin’ for, ya bampots!! _SHOOT IT!!!”_ Rowena yelled.

All three Winchesters, finally startled out of their amazement, began shooting. The thing moved faster and faster around the circle, managing to miss a surprising number of bullets before it finally got nicked, then grazed, then hit square in the center. They all kept shooting until their clips were empty, the smell of cordite filling the room. Your ears rang as silence fell, everyone’s panting breaths the only sound.

It was a good, solid couple of minutes of staring at the dead ogrelet (ogreling?) before anyone could relax and believe it was really over. The Winchesters removed empty clips from their weapons and went about casually reloading in preparation for the next hunt. Dean reholstered his weapon and then checked on you, resting his hand on your shoulder. Rowena started cleaning up spell ingredients and packing up books, but you kept staring at the thing that had been inside you.

Now that your center of gravity was back where it was supposed to be, you stood, waving Dean off to finish packing up, and leaned closer to it, bent over so you could study the remains better. You nearly jumped out of your skin when a part of it moved, pulling the gun out of your holster and shooting it one more time, more out of instinct than anything.

Everyone else looked at you in shock, eyes wide and jaws slack, making you shift where you stood uncomfortably. With a sneer at the pile of remains, you lowered your gun and then reholstered it.

“That was for my bladder, you bastard,” you said and strolled out of the room.

 


End file.
